


Diag-Nonsense

by Simara



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Arkham Asylum, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Psychology, Scriddler if you squint, fear toxin, psychiatry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five diagnoses that were added to Edward Nygma's file and one occasion, where Jonathan Crane declares all of them invalid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diag-Nonsense

**Diag-Nonsense**

1\. Obsessive Compulsion

He was still so very young the first time they put an orange jumper on him and threw him into a cell in Arkham Asylum. Snarling at the guards and keeping his head high, he’d managed not to show the doubt that was nagging in his stomach.

“Edward Nashton”, the man read out, glancing at Ed as though allowing room for protest. Ed shrugged. “This is your first stay at Arkham- No criminal record to speak off. Going by this file I take it that you never sought out any kind of psychological treatment.” A grimace sprawled across Ed’s face and he did his best to hide the contempt behind a smile.  
“You guessed correctly.” The doctor glared at him. He didn’t appreciate Ed’s arrogance.  
“Don’t worry, we’ll change that soon enough.” Ed’s mask slipped for just a second because he knew- oh god he knew- that treatment in Arkham would not be to his liking.  
“About that”, he said, and his mouth felt slightly dry. “I’m still wondering what got me the honour.”  
“Since you call yourself a Riddler, shouldn’t you be able to work it out?” People didn’t seem to take his alias all too serious and it was starting to make him feel rather annoyed.  
“If it’s just because of the mask and costume I really pity your so called Asylum.” The doctor shook his head, scribbling down something that Ed couldn’t read from where he was seated and it made him uncomfortable not to know what it said. He always needed to know.  
“Why did you leave those clues?” A change of topic, coming from seemingly nowhere but Ed noticed the connection. His jaw clenched. He should have said something, anything, he’s good at talking (talks too much, as he’s often reminded) but he didn’t and the doctor won’t let it go. “Why did you leave those clues, Mr. Nashton?” He wanted to correct the man, tell him that Mr. Nashton, that’s his father, his thrice-damned father who’s still beating him half dead in his nightmares and that he changed his last name to Nygma some time ago. Instead, Ed said something that’s just as true but it’s little more than a whisper and it pained him to say it but then again, he couldn’t muster the power to lie:  
“Because I had to.”

He’s diagnosed with _Obsessive Compulsive Disorder_ that day. Edward never saw the point in arguing against it.

 

2\. Narcissism

“It’s not my fault that your underdeveloped brain can’t hold up with my intellect.” Ed was bored and in no mood to answer the questions of a doctor that couldn’t even recognize the most obvious clues he was throwing her way.  
“Let’s talk about just that then. You seem to see yourself as superior-“  
“Because I am. I’m a genius. None of your silly little psycho talk can take that away from me.”  
“Why do you think we’d want to take something away from you?” Edward frowned.  
“I didn’t-” She cut him off but didn’t dwell on his wording. Jonathan would have and Ed is thankful that he’s merely talking to this witless doctor.  
“I’m not trying to deny that your intelligence is above average, Mr. Nygma but the way you see yourself is delusional and the limited amount of value you assign to other people’s lives makes you a dangerous individual.” He smiled at that. “That’s not a compliment.” She snapped.  
  
_Narcissistic Personality Disorder_ is scribbled on the front page of his file that very day and he feels oddly pleased by it.

 

3\. Self-Destruction

“I won’t ask again Crane. You’re welcome to stay.” Jonathan made a snarling sound but finally complied and followed his cell-mate through the now empty corridors of Arkham. An alarm was beeping somewhere in the distance and Jonathan could hear the all too familiar sound of a man screaming in terror. Oh, how he longed to schedule some new sessions.  
It took them longer than expected to find their way out- some new security measures which Ed hadn’t considered in his plans- but in the end they managed to grab a handful of their belongings and to steal a doctor’s car.  
Jonathan had enough experience with the so called Riddler not to question why Edwards had brought him along at all. It was obvious to him that the younger one had gotten used the bits and pieces of attention he had offered him during their shared time in Arkham and even though he had often provoked fights by poking and probing deeper and deeper into Ed’s psyche, he was aware that the self-proclaimed genius hated solitude considerately more than one Jonathan Crane.

“So”, Jonathan began calmly, as he closed the motel room’s door behind them, “Do you want me to guess why you chose such a hurried exit?”  
“My, Jon, there I’d always thought you had no love for riddles!” Ed proclaimed with mock sincerity. Jonathan shook his head ever so slightly.  
“If we’re going to call these bruises of yours a riddle I probably know the answer.” Without warning, Ed lashed out and smashed an ugly vase standing on the bedside drawer.  
“This has nothing to do with him!” A smile tugged at Jonathans lips.  
“I am correct, then. Interesting.” Edward paled. It made the bruises stand out even more. Jonathan appreciated how thorough Twoface had been. Split lip, bruised face, both arms coloured red and blue, a broken hand and god knows what else had happened between the two of them. But the most delightful thing about that view was the fear in Ed’s haughty looks.  
“Shut up”, Ed says coldly, reclaiming his arrogance because he doesn’t have much more to fight with. “I’ll let you know when I want to hear your professional advice; right now I couldn’t even afford to pay you for it.” With a humourless laugh, Jonathan answered:  
“Never fret, my dear boy, I’ll tell you something free of charge: You long for pain. Maybe you’re too used to it, maybe you need to relive some of your undealt with issues but one thing is for sure: It’s your own fault that he beat you up. Making googly eyes at Harvey- What did you expect? You, claiming to be so very clever, already knew that eventually, he’d have a bad day and Twoface would make you pay for making Harvey feel like a decent human being. Your actions have always been close to self-harming but this time you’ve outdone yourself. Bravo.”  
“Why did I break out, then?” Ed snapped back through gritted teeth. “According to your brilliant diagnoses, wouldn’t I have stayed there, making the same mistake all over again?”  
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it, Edward. You broke out of Arkham in order to get away from the man who did this”, he touched one of the bruises in Ed’s face and the younger man flinched at the touch. “But while escaping him, you invited me along.” Within seconds, the needle emptied itself into Ed’s system. “And that even though you knew I’d been awaiting another session for oh so very long. You really are working towards your own destruction Edward, and today we’ll have a look at the fears that fuel this drive.” Terror grew wide in Ed’s eyes as he realized what Jonathan had done to him.

When he came to the next day, there were cops everywhere and Jonathan was smiling his unsettling little smile that he only reserved for days that brought him some kind of fruitful research. Ed was feeling like hell. He vaguely remembered the hallucinations and the pain and the utter terror he’d suffered through and it made him shiver. The worst part though was, that Crane was right. He was all too prone to make stupid decisions, especially when it came to choosing company.

Once they were returned to Arkham, someone had added _Self-destructive Tendencies_ to Edward’s ever increasing file. Curtesy of the Scarecrow, no doubt.

 

4\. Manic-Depression

There was no energy left in him. He was feeling numb and useless. His mind was restless, wandering, and yet he could not grasp any thought for long. Why, one might ask, was someone as brilliant as Edward Nygma refusing to get out of his cot? The answer was rather mundane: A nagging kind of doubt had settled in his stomach and a voice was whispering in the back of his head. _Cheater_ , it called him, _liar, stupid boy_ and it was getting louder. _Why bother_ , it asked him, _why even try to break out again? You’ll just be caught again and again and your life will pass by without you achieving anything of worth. You’ll age and you’ll die and people will forget about you. You’re a wanna-be, pretending to be so very clever._  
At first, Jonathan had made fun of his cell mate’s catharsis, poked him now and then and said that he much preferred this unusual sullenness to Edwards regular bickering. After a while he couldn’t help but ask, out of sheer professional curiousness, of course:  
“Do you want to tell me what happened to you?” No answer. “Edward-“  
“You’re the one bickering now”, came the muffled response. Jonathan smiled dryly.  
“They would blame me if you’d killed yourself, you know.”  
“You’re trying to psychoanalyze me. Stop.” With that, Ed pulled the covers back over his head.

Jonathan wasn’t the only one who grew suspicious, though. One of the medical stuff eventually pointed the change in behaviour out to his superior.  
“He’s been like that for days now. He’s never done that before.”  
“Have you tried adjusting his medication yet?”  
“No, Sir, I wanted to check in with you before I do that. I feared…”  
“You’re new here, Dr. I’m going to give you some lasting advice: Don’t worry too much about what you do to these people. I’ll just put a note in his file- See? _Manic-Depression_. All you’ve got left to do now is try some different medical cocktails.”

 

5\. Sanity

He was old now, some odd 60 years and time hasn’t been kind to him. When he’d first set foot on Arkham ground, he’d been a tall, skinny youth with wild red hair and a spring in his walk. Now, he found it hard to get up in the morning and his hair had turned grey. Still skinny, but ironically enough with more muscle than he’d ever had back then at twentysomething. Lithe, but not as tall anymore, sunken, green eyes still glistening with the one thing left to him: His intellect. Edward hadn’t been in Arkham for 10 years or so and he hadn’t thought he’d ever be back. Didn’t commit any crime, this time, no, some nagging neighbour had ratted him out after realizing that snarky old bastard used to be part of the ever so famous “Rogues Gallery”. The doctor they put before him this time was young and handsome and Ed felt a slight pain at the thought that he himself wasn’t any longer.  
“Edward Nygma”, the doctor read off the file, brow furrowed. It was a remarkably thick file. Ed shrugged.  
“If you say so.”  
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The unexpected sentiment made Edward blink in confusion.  
“Pardon me?”  
“I mean it, Nygma. As far as we can tell, you’ve been a law abiding citizen for quite some time now. Apart from rumours, we hardly ever heard about you at all.”  
“You hurt my pride, boy.”  
“What I mean to say is that I’m going to ask for an official release on parole. You won’t have to stay here for long.”  
“That’s… unusual.” He admitted. “But not unappreciated. May I ask what makes you so certain, my numerous disorders won’t get the worse of me eventually?” The doctor smiles at him and Edward feels as though this child is pitying him. It makes his skin crawl.  
“I want to be completely honest with you. You’re as aware as we are that Arkham used to be a dark place, not fit to help any of its inhabitants, in contrary.” Ed smirks at that.  
“Oh, yes, I noticed. And how good old Arkham changed since those days. My, no one even tried to beat me to a pulp when I was admitted.” It pleased Ed immensely how the young doctor shifted uncomfortable under his steady gaze.  
“I’m sorry.” The doctor said again. It sounded wrong to hear these words spoken within the walls of the former Asylum. “And to answer your question: None of these diagnoses” he flipped the file open. Edward bit his lip, trying hard not to grip it and have a look himself. “None of these diagnoses add up. I doubt that any of them apply at all.” Ed froze. His spine hurt and his head was spinning.  
“Do you mean to imply that I’m-“  
“Completely sane.” The doctor finished, smiling apologetically.

 

+1

“Do you believe it? Sane. I’m still not sure if I feel insulted by that diagnoses. May I?” He poured his guest some tea without interrupting his rant. “I mean, honestly, I’m used to people picking my brain apart by now, and counting you among my friends is partly responsible for that, but- ‘Completely sane’? Ha!”  
“Careful, you’ll break the china, Edward.”  
“I feel like breaking way more than that, Jon.” Crane waved his hand, devaluating the argument.  
“You’ve never been the violent kind. Do you want to hear my professional opinion?”  
“You know I do, Dr. Crane.” He said it almost mockingly and still both knew that Jonathan was one of the only psychologists Ed had ever valued. Jonathan readjusted his glasses with a sight.  
“You won’t like to hear this, Edward, but first and foremost you’re just annoying and that’s not yet considered a mental disorder.” Before Ed had a chance to protest, he continued. “Most of the diagnoses you managed to collect during your time in and out of Arkham are more or less direct results of the experiences of your childhood and youth. Your compulsions for example have obvious causes. As for narcissism, they merely misinterpreted your compensative behaviours for something that admittedly fitted your criminal history. That doesn’t necessarily make you ‘sane’ by the book but then again it’s an inconsistent terminology.”  
“I’m aghast, Jon. I’d thought you’d be the first to label all my quirks according to whatever diagnostic catalogue is currently in use.”  
“Edward, listen to me. You’re a mess. Always have been. You’re driven by fear and that’s delicious but out of all the costumed criminals of our time, you’ve always been one of healthiest. And that’s including your encounter with cancer. Now would you mind to pass me the sugar?”

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language which is why I'm always thankful if someone points out mistakes I made. ;) Hope you enjoyed reading.


End file.
